


Bait

by theianitor



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Assassins & Hitmen, Crimes & Criminals, Drinking, Established Relationship, Guns, Kissing, M/M, Minor Character Death, mature for safety's sake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:01:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28138851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theianitor/pseuds/theianitor
Summary: The bar was by no means packed, but there were still more people than Sebastian would have liked. In a place like this, it was a fair assumption that most of the patrons were armed, dangerous, or both, and he considered himself to be none of those things. He felt like he very much looked it too.Which was, of course, part of the point.
Relationships: Jenson Button/Sebastian Vettel, Romain Grosjean/Sebastian Vettel
Comments: 12
Kudos: 25





	Bait

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all. :) Haven't written in a while and then this happened in one sitting. Posting it to get it out of my system, kinda thing. Mayhaps a little darker than I usually go, but like... such is life. Hope you enjoy. <3

The Pit Wall wasn’t a bar that invited walk-ins. The front was poorly advertised and even less lit, the music was kept low, there wasn’t really a dance floor, and the guys behind the bar were always less than friendly. It seemed permanently dirty, from the sticky floors to the grubby tables, yet it still saw steady business. But nobody went to the Wall unless they’d been there before.

The bar was by no means packed, but there were still more people than Sebastian would have liked. In a place like this, it was a fair assumption that most of the patrons were armed, dangerous, or both, and he considered himself to be none of those things. He felt like he very much looked it too.

Which was, of course, part of the point.

His light brown hair was growing back out, blond tips only just starting to curl, giving him a soft, innocent look. The shirt was a bit too small, stretching over muscles which still looked lean enough to be safe for most would-be partners, and it rode up constantly, sharing a bit more skin than strictly necessary. His blue jeans were well-worn, too tight to hide any weapons but tight enough to show that he had put them on deliberately. He looked like he was advertising.

He’d left his denim jacket on and made sure he was seen counting out bills for his first drink, a light beer. He may as well have been wearing a sign that said “poor, confused kid, come and get it”, and he was honestly a bit surprised that nobody questioned the act.

More than a few eyes followed him as he made his way from the door to the bar, and then from the bar to the high stool where he took a seat. But nobody approached. Not yet. He probably still seemed too sober, and he might still be waiting for someone.

If they only knew.

About halfway through his beer, Sebastian saw who he’d been looking for – and realized he’d already been spotted in turn. A tall, slender man at the other end of the bar had just accepted his drink and was watching him as if he didn’t care who saw. He was leaning down to pick up his glass but stood up to his full height, still looking fully at Sebastian as he knocked his drink back in one go. He set his glass down on the counter again and waved a wordless order with the bartender, and then started making his way over towards Sebastian.

He didn’t look armed, and he didn’t look dangerous, but Sebastian couldn’t help but glance at his hands. He’d never seen it in person, had been kept well away from it, but he’d heard enough to know what happened to those who got in this man’s way, or in the way of those who paid well for his services. What those hands could be capable of.

Romain was a sick fuck.

A sick enough fuck that he’d worked his way up quickly, become a name people respected, or at least feared. Now he’d been sent after enough lowlifes that not-so-low lowlifes had taken notice, and decided to do something about it.

Sebastian had done these kinds of things before, many times over, but very seldom was he ever _worried_. He hadn’t seen anyone, and he wasn’t carrying any kind of weapon. All he had in this moment was the word of another killer that this particular one wouldn’t be allowed to hurt him. He had to admit, it left him feeling a little bit worried.

He kept a discreet eye on Romain while he finished the rest of his beer in large gulps. There was a bit more left than he’d thought and it left him a little out of breath, wiping at his lips and actually feeling the slightest hint of a buzz. He didn’t drink that often. This ironically fit very well into the part he was playing tonight.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

His accent was pretty heavy but the words were clear, and his voice was strangely lighter than what Sebastian had been expecting. Romain had sauntered up right next to him, placing himself between Seb and the room, his back turned to the whole bar. Like he was shielding him. Or trying to hide him.

Sebastian smiled, glancing at his empty glass and hoping it passed for youthful nerves rather than the sudden feeling that his true purpose was shining out of his eyes, clear as day for anyone and everyone to see.

“Sure, I guess.”

Romain raised his hand at the bartender again and, when he looked over, held up two fingers. So much for getting through the night on light beers, Sebastian thought. Romain was clearly at the Wall often enough to have a regular drink.

“What’s your name?”

Romain was leaning in just a little, resting one elbow against the bar. He smelled surprisingly good, Seb thought, and realized he’d been expecting some kind of brute. The man next to him was wearing a neat, black motorcycle jacket with the collar turned up, a white shirt that even looked like it had been ironed – or was so new it hadn’t yet needed ironing – and dark blue jeans. He was somewhere between attractively dressed up and completely ignorable.

Their drinks appeared and Sebastian first looked at the twin glasses and then back up at Romain.

“I’m Seb,” he said, and was met with a smile.

“Seb,” Romain said, as if trying it out. It slid strangely over his tongue, unfamiliar, but clearly pleasing, like Sebastian had given him something quite valuable.

“Seb. I am Romain.”

He took the glass closest to Seb and used it to nudge the one in front of himself closer to Sebastian instead. Again, Seb’s eyes went to his hand. He swallowed.

“A little toast, to a new friend?”

“But you don’t even know me?” Seb said, the question coming unbidden, the insecurity barely an act at this point; did he really look so much like prey that he had actually invited this predator for a chase?

“I am hoping I will, before the night is over.”

Again, Romain tossed his drink back in one go, the glass empty as it hit the bar counter. He was obviously very used to drinking, Seb thought, taking a more cautious sip. It burned like whiskey but tasted less smoky, and he pulled a face before he could stop himself.

“You do not like it?” Romain’s voice was lower now, huskier.

“Maybe I will,” Seb said, daring a small smile, “before the night is over.”

Romain’s smile grew even broader, a predator showing his teeth, his prey within reach of his claws and so willingly dulling their own senses. Seb took one more sip and managed to keep a straight face this time. The prey was not above wanting to appear capable – nor beyond noticing the way the predator’s eyes took in his form, hungrily considering where to start its next feast.

\--

“I find you quite beautiful,” Romain purred, stroking his knuckles down Seb’s cheek. It was a few drinks later and Sebastian was tipsy. Not dangerously so, he’d been careful, but it was almost easier this way.

“Really?” he asked, making his eyes as big and searching as he could, blinking as if in disbelief at that kind of statement. From the way Romain’s eyes roamed his body again, he’d sold it very well. He definitely saw a young man longing for approval, starved for such flattery and attention.

If he only knew.

In truth, Sebastian suffered no lack of attention, and he was quite used to being appreciated. Jenson made sure Seb knew how he felt about him. In word and deed, from trinkets to thoughtful gifts, from gentle caresses to bruises, Sebastian knew how Jenson felt.

And his feelings were more than returned. Never before in his life had Sebastian felt so whole, so fulfilled, as when he’d met one of the most dangerous men the shadows of the city had managed to produce. He went to bed each night nestled in the arms of a murderer, and he slept soundly. It had taken some time before Jenson involved him in his business, choosing to hold him at arm’s length as long as possible, but there was nothing, nothing in this world, or any hereafter, that Seb wouldn’t do for him.

Playing bait for an up-and-coming killer who had messed with the wrong people was nothing.

Sebastian smiled and turned his head away, hoping the blush he felt in his cheeks read as being coy and flattered, rather than conveying his actual thoughts. His mind has wandered to where he would be spending the night, and with whom.

“Really,” Romain repeated, finishing his fifth or so drink. His fingers crept their way up Seb’s, continuing to his wrist and then spidering their way back down again. Sebastian felt goosebumps going all the way up his arm.

“I cannot believe someone so pretty is single.”

There was presumption in the statement. For a second, Seb wondered if it would get him alone with Romain faster if he said he had someone, that he was out here to cheat, a risk-seeker, someone who could easily be led into waters much too deep for them and then be left to drown. He decided against it.

“Well I can’t believe you are too,” he said, a clumsy act of flattering Romain in return, which was received with a nod. It looked more like a thanks for the attempt than actually being impressed.

“I am not nearly as beautiful as you.”

His hand found Sebastian’s cheek again, touching him gently. This time, his thumb stroked briefly, daringly, at the corner of Seb’s lips. Seb turned away just slightly, feeling it was a bit too close for comfort.

“I would like to see more of how beautiful you are, if you would let me?”

“Oh,” Sebastian said, making sure to lick his lips but letting a smile merely ghost into existence before disappearing again.

“I... eh... I’ve never... you know.”

“What do I know?” The grin Romain gave him said loud and clear that he just wanted Seb to say it out loud, to properly present the prize he’d caught himself.

“I’ve never _been_ with a man,” Seb whispered. It was the deepest lie he’d have to tell tonight, other than his feigned interest in Romain and his play at being flattered by his attention.

Romain leaned in close to whisper too, two people sharing secrets at the end of a dingy bar, ignored by the other patrons, left to trust only in each other.

“It would be an honor to teach you.”

That Sebastian even knew there were rooms upstairs should have given Romain some kind of clue that he wasn’t all he seemed, Seb thought. He quickly mentioned hearing it from someone at the station, not having a lot of money and needing a place to stay. Whether he actually believed it or was drunk enough to not care anymore, Romain stroked his arm and intertwined their fingers as they walked up the stairs, away from the people and the noise of the bar.

The hallway was as gritty as everything else in the establishment, dusty and well-walked floors, a few worn doors and rooms with beds that probably saw very little sleeping but plenty of other activities. Sebastian opened the door at the end of the hall, the metal number 8 on the wall next to it no longer shiny enough to reflect them or the dim lights in the hall.

The room was dark but the smells that met them betrayed the state of it; it was musky, air standing still, unable to shift the lingering scents of sweat and cigarettes from the last visitors. Sebastian flicked the lights on and was about to turn when he felt Romain swoop in close, pressed against his back.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, his mouth so close to Seb’s ear Seb could feel the words against his skin. Then those lips found his neck, wet and warm, soft, but sloppy, as they kissed their way down to where Seb’s shirt hindered their further progress.

“Let me see more of you.”

There was almost a plea in his voice but his hands were strong, gripping Seb’s shoulders and turning him around. Sebastian backed up, giving him a shy smile and slipping his jacket down his arms. He didn’t miss how Romain’s eyes lit up with hunger; his shirt had ridden up again, revealing a sliver of skin, a trail of hair leading downward. He resisted the urge to pull the shirt down a little.

Romain said something in French, Sebastian didn’t catch it but he knew it must have been French. Then he surged forward, his thin frame and long legs making it seem like a single step, and before Sebastian knew it he was on his back on the bed, Romain between his legs, one long-fingered hand sliding up his chest and finding its way to his throat.

For the first time that night, Sebastian felt a shiver of fear. He was used to the hands of a killer, the touch of a man most feared enough to never get near enough to let him touch them, but that was different. Jenson’s touch never so much as hinted at his usual business when he was with Sebastian. There was not a trace of harm or actual ill-intent, not even when he clawed scratches into Seb’s skin, bit and sucked to leave possessive marks, pressed his fingers down so hard Seb felt it for days.

Those touches were cherished gifts.

This was too close.

Romain’s hand stretched almost clean across Seb’s throat and he squeezed softly, just a hint of pressure, whether intended as a test or as a threat, Seb didn’t know. The flutter of fear in his heart however, he knew that, and knew it well.

“Seb,” Romain whispered, raising himself up a little to look down at his prey, finally caught beneath him, fully helpless, the hunt truly over. He leaned in close and their lips met, but the hand around Seb’s throat didn’t leave its place.

Sebastian tried to relax. He really tried, but his only thoughts were that it was surprisingly soft, and that it was left to go on for a surprisingly long time. He parted his lips slightly and Romain’s tongue almost cautiously slid deeper. Then the swift, mechanical click of someone racking a slide cut through the musty, warm air.

Romain raised himself only slightly from Seb, eyes still on him and nothing else. He clearly thought there was no real threat. Or that he could at least handle it and then get back to business. A smolder of anger had appeared in his blue eyes though, and his fingers flexed ever so slightly at Seb’s throat.

“I am pretty sure I asked if you were single...” he said, his voice simultaneously clearer and more husky now. Sebastian had met the type before, where the type of excitement didn’t matter as long as there was some kind of action to be had. It fit Romain’s personality better than his kisses.

“And Sebastian is a perfect little liar,” a familiar voice spoke from the far corner they’d both soundly ignored when they’d come in the room.

“Let him go, if you would.”

From his position underneath Romain, Seb couldn’t see Jenson, but he’d know that voice anywhere. He steeled himself for a fight. To his surprise, Romain only narrowed his eyes for a second, but then his hand slid away, leaving his throat feeling almost cold in its absence. On his way to standing up from the bed he pressed his hips down needlessly, making sure Sebastian could feel him. If the situation had been different, Seb might have applauded his daring.

It looked like it took some effort to get up. Romain seemed even taller from down on the bed, but his eyes were no longer fixed on Seb and he found it made him feel like he was in less danger. In the corner he could see Jenson, standing casually and quite at his ease, both hands on his gun and his gaze unwavering. His complete lack of worry made Seb feel even safer. Nothing could touch him when Jenson was near.

As Romain moved his shoulders and shifted his neck this way and that, it struck Seb that he might be gearing up to fight. Then the Frenchman raised his hands as if in surrender, and turned to face their interruption.

The confident grin he’d been sporting fell away as soon as he laid eyes on Jenson. With a perturbed look, he let his hands fall to his sides.

“You,” he said with a sigh. “I should have fucking known.”

“But you didn’t, and here we are,” Jenson said, not lowering his gun an inch. If he fired now, this was over. Romain would be no more, and given where they were, it would take a good long while before anybody found out how he’d met his end.

They both stood still, Jenson waiting to see if Romain was going to give him any excuse for ending this, and Romain looking like he was more or less accepting of having wandered into this trap. A killer-for-hire and a sick fuck, maybe, but not a complete idiot, Sebastian thought. Everybody in the business knew Jenson. And they knew to stay well clear, and what it usually meant to find oneself face to face with him.

“Is there any way to... work out some kind of deal?”

Sebastian sat up in the bed and cautiously made his way to standing up. He moved around Romain and gave him some distance as he made his way closer to the door. Jenson glanced at him, making sure, but he wouldn’t let any potential danger roam free while Seb was there.

“You can’t be trusted.”

Romain might not know, but Sebastian heard it. It wasn’t how Jenson would have sounded if this had truly been the end of the discussion. He would sometimes humor his victims while they were still alive, letting them talk themselves tired, offering this and that, trying to bargain, thinking their lives were worth whatever they were saying they would give and always showing the same surprise and almost disappointment at that not being the case.

“For the right price...” Romain started.

“Money isn’t trust,” Jenson interrupted.

“For the right opportunity then,” Romain shrugged. “You could use somebody like me, I am sure. And I could...”

For a second his eyes fell to Seb again, who had made it all the way over to Jenson. He was close by his side, but not close enough to be in the way if Romain made a bid for the door. The corner of Romain’s mouth twitched up just slightly.

“I could use somebody like you.”

Sebastian was sure Romain waited for him to properly see him looking, before his gaze went back to the man with the gun. It said something about a person, Seb thought, when a Glock 21 wasn’t enough to hold their attention.

“He’s mine.”

Jenson’s voice was level but there was a warning in his words. Romain tilted his head to one side.

“Of course. But he can still help you decide. And it is still true that you can use somebody like me.”

Slowly, Jenson lowered the gun. Romain stayed perfectly still, two devils in the same room, measuring each other’s sins to see who might be more trustworthy.

“Did you do Pastor?”

It was a test, Sebastian knew. Jenson still had the gun in his hand, it still wasn’t out of the question that he might kill Romain. But if he could get anything out of keeping him around for a while, he surely would. It was a question of having something that would keep him around however, keep him in the organization rather than roaming as he was rumored to do currently, available to perform heinous acts for the highest bidder.

“Come on,” Romain said, a hint of exasperation in his voice. “You already know that, no?”

“True, but you might have thought I didn’t,” Jenson said, actually smirking. “Or you might have been trying to play me.”

“A potential partner? I don’t try to play.”

In the seconds of silence, his words hung like the dust in the air of the room. Jenson still didn’t put his gun away, and Sebastian couldn’t help but look Romain in the eyes. Again, the Frenchman shot him a smile.

“Okay,” Romain finally said. “For you, how about I tell you something you do not know?”

“That would make me a bit more inclined to trust you,” Jenson said, nodding as if considering his words.

“I know he is not one of yours, but you have heard that Giovinazzi is out of the game?”

If Jenson was in any way concerned about Romain knowing someone was or wasn’t part of his crew, he did nothing to show it. Denying the obvious was completely useless, of course.

“Yeah?”

“The reason he is no longer in the game, is because he is very much dead.”

Sebastian glanced at Jenson, who was nodding slowly.

“And why?”

“I do not ask questions.”

Romain shifted, the sound of his shoes against the floor almost loud in the room, and still they were completely invisible to the people down in the bar, their information still wholly unknown to anyone outside the room.

“But if I make a guess, _he_ did. And him getting killed, it would also make a lot of trouble, because he was moving up, he was going to work for very important people.”

“But that only makes trouble for...” Jenson stopped talking. Sebastian had caught it too. The power struggle in _that_ family was well known, but lately it had been strangely quiet. Everyone assumed they’d been consolidating their forces; Romain suggested it might be quiet because there were suspicions about what might have happened within the family itself.

“Depending on who killed him,” Romain said with a shrug, “and depending a little bit on who gets the blame, no? It is a very convenient death.”

Sebastian did his best to not look as surprised as he felt. Giovinazzi being dead didn’t matter one way or the other, but if what Romain was offering up was true, the information was highly valuable.

Something crashed from downstairs, a glass or bottle meeting the floor and adding to the grime in the bar. There was no further scuffle or sounds of shouting, so it was just another night at the Wall; things were bound to get broken in a place like this.

“Is that good for you?”

Jenson nodded slowly again, and actually moved to put his gun away. As soon as it was holstered, Sebastian moved to his side. When they were in the same room, they were rarely out of touching distance, and he realized that despite all the danger he’d felt from Romain evaporating, he’d felt a little lost with _his_ being the last touch he’d had, the trace of his hands still lingering on Seb’s skin.

“And what is good for you?” Romain added, casting a glance at Seb, a smirk playing on his lips.

“It’d be best for _you_ to not even think about that.” Jenson shifted so Seb was facing him, rather than Romain. A smaller target, and clearly his.

“Ah, come on,” Romain said, sounding truly amused now. “I would never _try_ it. But you cannot stop me from _thinking_.”

As if he had nothing better to do, Romain gave the door a nod, and when neither of the others moved, he made his way over to it and left without another look at them. Sebastian stood still for a moment, one devil out of the room.

The other one was very much still present, but also very much his, and he wrapped his arm around Seb with a deep sigh.

“Well thank fuck.”

Sebastian knew better than to ask if he’d been scared, or even worried. Jenson didn’t get scared. But Seb still folded against his body, pressing in close and relishing the warmth, the familiar scent of home.

“Glad it’s over?” Seb asked, speaking mostly into Jenson’s shirt.

Jenson leaned back, getting a hint of distance between them. Then he reached up and stroked Seb’s cheek.

It always happened, after nights like these, and tonight Sebastian was especially expecting it. Jenson didn’t usually see so much, nor were people usually so... daring, as Romain had been. Not that he’d been worried, Jenson would have broken Romain’s hands if he’d gone too far, but Jenson still liked to check, liked to touch, as if he didn’t quite trust his eyes that Seb was still there, still his. Slowly, his hand slid up to Seb’s throat, covering the vaguely lingering feeling left there by the Frenchman. Sebastian tilted his head back, giving Jenson access.

“Let’s go home,” Jenson said in a low voice, thumb stroking almost absent-mindedly over Seb’s pulse point. He might have done some pretty horrible things, still did, on a regular basis, but he wouldn’t stoop so low as to fuck his lover in a room like this. “I want you.”

Sebastian smiled, pulling Jenson down for a kiss.

Oh if he only knew.

\- The End -

**Author's Note:**

> All in good fun, as per usual! :)  
> Thanks for the read! <3


End file.
